


The Helga Diaries

by BrazenBlue



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Hey Arnold! - Freeform, Hey Arnold! Fanfiction, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrazenBlue/pseuds/BrazenBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helga Pataki moved from Hillwood, leaving behind her friends. Seven years later, she returns to her hometown. However, in the midst of moving, the Pataki's are struck with a tragedy. Leaving Helga harboring a dark secret about the death of a family member. As Helga tries to navigate through her chaotic return to Hillwood, she's brought face to face again to the boy who rejected her, whom she also loved, once again. Along with dealing with her feelings for Arnold, Helga reacquaints herself with her old elementary school group, as well. Learning that some of her old friends have grown apart and some have grown closer and some have completely changed. Some for better and some for the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Helga Diaries

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, Y'all! This is a new fanfiction I'll be working on along with Renesmee's. This one's mostly for fun, but it's something to get me going! I love Helga/Arnold. ENJOY!

I knew today was going to be hectic. It wasn't because I was coming back to the town I left seven years ago, along with my "friends", Arnold and Phoebe. It was because today was going to be non-stop condolence wishes as I tried to walk my way through the halls of PS: 120. Three months ago during the Summer, my parents, Bob and Miriam, decided to move back to this town that I grew up in, Hillwood. However, during the first couple weeks of the process of moving, on one of our trips down here with stuff to move, my mother and I got into a deadly car accident. Which, by some miracle, I walked away semi-unharmed, with a broken leg, arm and a concussion. Compared to my mother, who died in the accident.

I spent two months of Summer recovering on my bed in my old Pataki roof, with Phoebe Heyerdahl, my best friend since childhood and the only person I kept in contact with in Hillwood. It was amazing how I hadn't seen Phoebe in years, aside from speaking on the phone on Sundays, yet the second I needed her, she was at my doorstep. I hated it, but if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have showered until my limbs had healed.

Getting tired of being inside my own head, I read my alarm clock. The red numbers blinked 7:20 am. I knew it was about thirty minutes before I had it set, but I didn't care. I threw my blankets off my still wobbly legs and made my way to the bathroom. After shedding my clothes and getting into the shower, the water that hit my back felt amazing. It'd been a while since I was able to privately take a shower, and it felt so refreshing. I decided to take advantage of the thirty extra minutes I had in the shower and shaved my legs. Since it was only a few days ago that my cast was taken off, my right leg was as prickly as an Arizona cactus, from the weeks of neglect. Once I ran my hand over my legs and found no patches, I stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed and relieved about not having to feel self-conscience.

After blow drying out my hair, I walked into my room and shoved on some black Capris leggings, a pink tunic, and some black and white converse. I applied some light make up, and tied my hair into a low ponytail. By the time I was finished, I still had a little time to kill with it being 7:40. Maybe I could just walk really slow to school, I decided.

Gathering my Jansport, I headed out of my bedroom door. It was so weird going back to the PS school district, but not because I was nervous. Mostly because I just wanted to get it over with. I was sure that I was so disliked in elementary school, that no one from my old group would bother to approach me. Which brought me some comfort, oddly. The only one I knew was Phoebe, and since she hadn't mentioned anyone talking about me, I assumed she hadn't told anyone I was in town, to my relief.

It wasn't a long walk to the school from my house, but it got longer when rain was pelting me. I was half way to the school when it started really coming down, so I used my backpack over my head as a shield. My leg was still slightly useless, so my run was a mix between a limp and hop. It was like I had to relearn how to get used to my leg, again.

Once I was inside of the school, it wasn't as nuts as I thought it'd be. I shuffled myself off into the office immediately and retrieved my class schedule. After hugging myself as out of the way as possible, I peered over the map and my schedule. Mostly AP classes just like at my old school and then a zero-hour. Suddenly, I was embraced by a pair of arms. But I knew them so well over these months, I knew exactly who it was crushing me from behind.

"Oh, Helga!" Phoebe said, excitedly making me smile. "I'm so glad to see you today,"

Once she let me go I spun around to face her and smirked. "Phoebes, you've been at my house for two months straight. I'm surprised you didn't go running the other way,"

My hair was completely soaked and had drenched the top of my shirt.

"Nonsense, ever since you told me months ago about moving back, I've been excited-" Phoebe stopped shortly and her eyes glued past me to something. Twisting around to stand beside her and find out what her eyes were distracted by, I immediately knew why.

He was almost unrecognizable, but his high forehead was a giveaway. He crossed the hall in a red shirt, baggy black jeans, and some red and black Nikes before stopping in front of Phoebe and me.

"H-hey, Ger-Gerald," Phoebe stammered, making one side of my mouth pick up in a smile at her. I could see her small black iris quickly snap up at me and then settle into a momentary glare.

"Hi, Phoebe. What's up? How was your summer?" He asked, seeming almost just as nervous as poor Phoebe.

I suddenly felt like the air was thickening around me with tension and I instantly wanted out, but I could also feel Gerald's eyes snap to me with curiosity. A small wave of relief came over me as I felt that recognition hadn't registered with him yet.

"Mine was great, I was helping Helga here over the summer move into her old house," She announced, crushing my hope from earlier.

His eyes suddenly grew this time with shock. "Helga!" he cheered before suddenly pulling me into a welcoming hug. "It's good to see you, how long's it been, babe?" He said, pulling from the hug.

"Seven years," I said, almost curtly. Phoebe was ecstatic next to me, probably happy not to be the one under his gaze now. I smiled to myself. She had another thing coming.

"Do me a favor, Geraldo," I started while I crossed my arms over my chest. "Keep my being here under wraps for a couple of days, I don't need the whole student body knowing I'm back,"

After storming past him, I looked behind me to notice Phoebes face burning a bright tomato red. Winking at her, she returned my wink with a scowl as Gerald turn to her and seemed to be shaking his head.

"I can see not much has changed since the fourth grade," I heard Gerald grumble under his usual light tone with a smirk.

The halls had somewhat died down a little, which allowed me to look at my schedule. Pulling it out of the folded position I had it, I peered at my class. After a few turns and ended up in the same place or in a place that didn't have the class I needed, I was pretty sure I was lost which left me only a couple options. Ask someone for directions or just find it myself.

I had only looked down for half a second, then smashed into a hard frame, my face pressing into something hard and soft at the same time. The structure flung me back into the ground, making me gasp and shake my head to focus my sights.

"Geez! What, was your head in the damned clouds!" I snapped at them but immediately felt my heart sink to the ground, as I pressed my palms into the ground where I landed.

He hadn't changed a bit. He still wore a red plaid shirt accompanied by a denim button up shirt with tattered jeans and a pair of black and white Nikes. The only thing different was that I was sure he was now taller than me, compared to elementary school. If I was five-foot-five-inches, he had to be at least six-feet if not slightly taller than that.

His eyes were huge as he leaned down and held out a hand to me. I eyed it. I hadn't spoken to Arnold in years and almost felt my throat go dry from my jaw being slightly slacked.

"Helga?" Arnold said, sounding just as astonished.

Good lord, it wasn't like I was a new person! Didn't I look even a little bit like the same? Why do people keep asking me this question?

"Geez, Arnoldo, it's not like I got a boob job and plastic surgery or anything. If it looks like me, it's obviously me," I snapped, before taking his hand.

It angered me that his touch still made butterflies that I hadn't felt in years, awake and flutter their delicate wings.

"Sorry, you just look so different..." He said, after hauling me up into a standing position. I expected the sudden movement to make my leg burst with pain, but after a few seconds, I was relieved that it didn't bring any pain at all.

I narrowed my eyes, annoyed. "Yeah, this thing happened one time when I was around twelve or thirteen, I just woke up and bam!" I explained then continued, "I had breasts and my "twelve-year-old-boy" body was gone."

I could see a smirk flash across his face, then let out a small laugh.

I guess he wasn't wrong. Puberty had been particularly kind to me, I no longer had my unibrow, but still had ridiculously thick eyebrows. While my eyebrows seemed very thick, they were very defined and shaped and I liked them. Especially on one of my sisters visits a year ago, she helped me pluck them and shape them even more. I had grown from my pigtail and bows and traded them for a longer, dirtier blonde hair that hung down to the center of my lower back that I would often dress up with braids, messy buns, stuff like that. But today, it was tied off at the nap of my neck in a ponytail. I still had my bow, though. I had turned it into a wristband over my childhood, unable to say goodbye to it. While puberty had been good to me, it turned me into a "hormonal boy" magnet. It was shocking at first, but after constantly being approached for dates, it became annoying.

"I see you're still the same in some cases," Arnold pointed out with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, hair boy if you'll get the hell out of my way, I can get to my class," I snapped, feeling like my old nine-year-old self again, as I clipped his shoulder with mine before shoving past him and stomping down the hallway, hoping that wherever my class was, was in this direction.

Truth be told, I was happy to see Arnold. I missed him, even though I sort of held a grudge against him. My crush for him never went away. Even throughout all these years. But back in fourth grade, I'd told him how I felt about him. And at first, when he opted for it as being a "heat of the moment" deal, I was happy. But after time went on, I realized that that was his nice way of rejecting me, but not coming out and saying it. Instead, it was like someone telling me NOT to feel a certain way, and to be told not to feel that way by the guy you'd been in love with since you'd both been in Kindergarten, cut deep. He never responded to my confession negatively nor positively, but that was how it felt. Swept under the rug like the weeks dusting on the floor.

That was okay. I was older now. I could look past that. C'mon, Helga, stop being pathetic.

When the bell rang the halls cleared and I still hadn't located my class, I frowned. I backtracked the way I came when I walked past Arnold and smiled in relief when I finally found the stupid classroom. I was about five minutes late, but I didn't care. AP Biology, I clarified on the door and opened it then frowned instantly. Arnold was sitting at a black top table, next to the window. I matched my schedule with the teacher's name on the door and frowned. He grinned at me, I responded with a scowl.

"Miss Pataki, I presume?" Mr. Spade said. I wanted to sigh and roll my eyes and say "No, Morgan Freeman."

"Correct, Mr. Spade." I said, as I waited and peered around the classroom with curious eyes, apart from one pair that looked amused but also something else I couldn't pinpoint, that belonged to Arnold, as Spade dug around on his desk and in his desk drawers.

After Spade spent a few minutes rummaging around his desk, he smiled as he handed me a paper. "Here's a slip to take to the office when you're done here, have a seat beside Arnold over there and we'll cover the Syllabus for this year." He instructed.

I desperately cast my eyes around the room for another empty seat option. Seeing that everyone was full, I sighed and pushed myself toward the blacktop table and set my stuff down on the side of the chair beside me. Idly, I hope that maybe he forgot all about fourth grade. Maybe it was one of those memories you slowly burned out of your memory, subconsciously. Perhaps my confession was so disgusting to him, he repressed it.

As the teacher started to drone on, I placed my cheek in my hand and forced myself not to fall asleep to his babbling. The one thing that helped--but also alarmed me--was the feeling of someone staring at me. I blinked periodically and ignored the sensation. Get a hold of yourself, Pataki.

At least, my fear hadn't come true. I hadn't had anyone crowding me with condolences and such.

Arnolds voice made me jump from my thoughts. "Helga?" He asked again, slightly louder, but still soft, somehow.

I scowled at him and narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, what, hair-boy, what do you want?" I grumbled.

"You have to sign this as my partner," He instructed, his tone hinting some amusement. I shook my head and grabbed the paper from him and looked it over. After the incident with Bob and that guy trying to sweep Bob's Beepers out from under his feet, I learned to read things before signing my name. It was a hand-drawn chart of all the tables. On each table, were the names of the students on them. The second row back from the front was mine and Arnold's. Looking over it, I signed my name next to Arnolds on my spot of the table. Though, I was sure tomorrow I was going to get here early enough to snag the chair by the window, whether he liked it or not or what this chart said.

I looked behind me to see a familiar face, reaching up to take the paper I was passing back.

"Helga!" Rhonda exclaimed. She definitely looked different. Still miss-prissy but somehow she looked more matured, even in the face. She was wearing a red blouse with black skinny jeans and boots. Still making fashion statements, I noted. Her dark-brown hair was cut into a bob-cut.

"Hey Rhonda," I greeted, placing the paper on her desk when she was too distracted to take it.

"Oh, Helga, I'm so sorry about your Mom. How are you and your family fairing?" She asked, which brought an immediate frown to my face.

"We're fine, thanks," I said, closing the topic before turning around. My sister was coming out in a few days after she graduated from the University, which I was both excited and not excited about. There were things about my Mother and I's car accident I was never going to speak of. Not even to my sister. My mother would've been humiliated. I was pretty sure my Dad knew, but like me, he wasn't confirming what he knew, not even to me. And I wouldn't confirm anything to him, either.

I placed my chin in my hand again and frowned. This time, Arnold's voice was easier not to be annoyed at, as I was lost in thought, but it seemed to pull me back to a medium mood from the descend my mood was going.

"Is that your bow from when you were little?" He asked, pointing to the pink makeshift wristband above my hand. I half smiled.

"That would be it. I just can't seem to part with it." I answered, surprisingly normally.

He smiled softly at me and I picked up one side of my mouth in response. "Well, I don't think you'd quite be Helga G Pataki without a pink bow,"

Before I could respond, the bell rang and he was already throwing his backpack over his shoulder and making his way out of the door. I shook my head, wanting to slap myself for smiling at his back while I watched him walking through the doorway, into the current of students.

I wanted to reach down my throat and beat down the butterflies that raged in my stomach at his comment. "Arnold, what a stupid, Football headed, goof," I grumbled, quietly. "But why does he have to be so cute and make it so hard to hate him?" I scalded him under a whisper before packing my things and leaving the classroom for my set of classes.


End file.
